


a good gift

by sweetsymphony



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Faeries - Freeform, Fair Folk, Magic, fae, life debts, sansa is not a Stark - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 21:17:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12240765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetsymphony/pseuds/sweetsymphony
Summary: To make up for a slight against his family, crown Prince Jofferey Baratheon gifts Ned Stark with a young Fae girl, honor bound to serve the Stark household.





	a good gift

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this randomly in like two hours. Should I keep it going? Comment if you guys want me to continue and I'll see what I can do.

 

“I come with the utmost respect Lord Stark, with a gift to make up for my earlier slight. I did not mean to disrespect your family and I have an offering to show my sincerest apologies and truly pledge my loyalty to the North.” Joffrey Baratheon’s words are well-spoken, though the smug tone in which they are said makes Jon grit his teeth in thinly concealed anger. He has never been one to hold his tongue, and now is especially hard seated in front of the Crown prince beside his father.

Ned Stark betrays none of the righteous anger that coils within his son, instead he nods just once and gestures for Joffrey to continue. His father is a good man, and no matter how dearly Jon wishes to run a sword through the Baratheon Prince, they will accept his mocking apology and untoward gift for his comments about Arya. Beside Jon, Robb frowns openly, unapologetic heat in his gaze. Propriety requires they stay silent, but Jon is assured that his brother is just as frustrated with their fathers good nature.

Jon had instructed Arya to stay as far from the crown prince as she could but even that could not keep her name out of his foul mouth. When Robb had overheard Joffrey speaking ill of their sister he had been so enraged he’d longed to tear the Princes pompous head from his shoulder.

Joffrey motions to one of his men and the doors to the great hall open swiftly.

The gift, it seems, is a girl, pulled forward by Jofferey’s man Clegane. She is tall, and willowy with loose hair so crimson it seems almost unreal, like live fire ablaze in the weak afternoon sunlight. Her skin is the color of moon beams and her eyes, even from where Jon sits across the room, are like bright afternoon sky and ablaze with curiosity. She stands beside Joffrey in a billowing white dress, thinner than any Northern garment ought be, edged with silver and lavender around the neckline and hem. When she moves the room seems brighter somehow, pulsating and giving her an otherworldly glow.

Ned Start is lost for words and his solemn face pulls downward in confusion, brow furrowed as he trys to understand. “You gift me a girl to make up for a snub against my only daughter?”

Joffrey’s grin is feral and pleased, and he clasps his hands together. “She is no girl my Lord. She is Fae. One of the Fair Folk from beyond the Wall. And now she is yours.” At Joffrey’s words the girl’s eyes turn and she gazes toward his father with unbridled interest. She curtsies delicately at Joffrey’s prodding and opens her mouth to speak.

“Greetings Lord Stark, good health and fortune to your household.” Her voice is musical, light and somehow still strong. When she turns her head Jon catches sight of one slim, pointed ear peeking through a wisp of auburn hair.

Jon has never seen a Fae. Old Nan spoke of them when he was younger, in stories and tales about what lay beyond the wall amongst the wildlings. Now that Joffrey has said it, it is impossible to deny.

“No one has laid eyes on a Fae in 50 years or more. There are none left in the whole of Westeros.” Ned Stark shakes his head, though he too cannot deny. Robbs mouth is open in shock and Jon rams his elbow into his brother’s ribs until he properly shuts it. Seer Rodrick too seems amazed and he shifts to whisper something into his father’s ear.

“Come girl, tell them.” Joffrey prompts harshly, and tugs at the girls elbow until she speaks again.

“Aye my Lord, tis the truth. I am of the Fair Folk. Prince Joffrey saved my life. I am indebted to him for it, though he would have me pledge my hand to you instead as a show of good faith. Would you have me give proof?”

At Neds nod, she closes her eyes and the light seems to gather around her. She wraps herself in beams of fading yellow, the last of the sunlight flickering in through the clouded windows, and room brightens in a way Jon can’t put into words. There is light in his heart, warmth in his toes, the ever-present chill of the North is gone it seems and the sweetness of a summers day coats the hall.

The men are entranced and when the feeling finally fades, they all, including Jon straighten in surprise. Ned’s gaze is pensive but understanding, and Jon is certain that his father see’s something that he himself cannot. 

“I trust this makes up for my earlier behavior? She is as good a gift as any in the Seven Kingdoms and the loyalty of the Fae know no bounds. I found her on your lands so by all rights she is your creature, yours to do with what you wish.” Joffrey puts a hand onto her shoulder and seemingly squeezes down, and though the girls serene expression reveals no discomfort her eyes are ablaze with annoyance.

“I’ll accept Prince Joffrey. Thank you kindly for your gift. Consider any grievances forgotten and we may move forward anew.”

Joffrey grins wide and arrogant and he and his men flit out the hall in a peacocking strut. His eyes flit to his Fae girl once more, gaze hot and predatory and sharp before the door shuts behind him and the hall is quiet once more.

“Come forward young one, tell me what you are called. We have not seen your kind in the North for many years.” Ned prompts gently he beckons her forward with one hand and kind smile, leaning forward in his seat to meet her eyes.

“I am Sansa. First of my name and last of my kin. I owe a life debt to the Prince for his kindness and his granted wish is that I serve you always, just and fair, until my end of days.” She holds her pointed chin high and Jon takes in the sharpness of her cheekbones, the smattering of freckles across her straight nose, the curve of her jaw and the fullness of her wet, pink mouth.

Old Nan had said the Fae were once children of the old gods, made in the image of all that was light and good in the realm. They lived in the forest and took many forms, and when humans came to encroach upon their lands the Fae had hidden themselves further amongst the brush in seclusion. A hundred years ago the Fae were said to have cursed all humans for the plight they bestowed on the land, and vowed that no Fae would share peace with human for the rest of days to come. He wonders at the truth of these tales as this girls stands before him, skirts clutched in her hands, bare feet on the tiled floor. 

“I welcome you to my home Lady Sansa and give thanks for your hand. I’m sorry duty takes you from your kind and traps you here in the land of men. I know it is not the Faes custom to oblige themselves to a human life.” Ned's tone is apologetic.

She smiles at Ned, a breathtaking and glorious little thing that grows brighter with each passing second. “I applaud your understanding Ser, but a Fae is bound to her word, and I am glad to do my duty to your house.”

As she speaks her eyes flit to Robb, then settle on Jon beside him, bright and fixed. In her gaze Jon feels something profound and he forces himself to let his grey eyes meet her own. 


End file.
